I first heard Robotaki at a weird time in my life. Although, on hundredth thought, I’m not sure if I’ve ever had an un-weird time in my life, and I’m not sure if Robotaki hasn’t been the reason at one point or another that I thought my life was weird. At least one of his songs – hit the play button on the left side! – makes me feel small. It makes me feel like I’m lying on the hood of a silver car, rented, parked on a cliff high above sea level, in Kauai, at midnight, looking up at a thousand stars. But a thousand’s not a lot. Stars closer to a million.
And then as the song gets louder – turn it up, your neighbors can take it for five minutes, and if they can’t, it’s their bad, not yours – it makes me feel even smaller. Like I’m spiraling down into the Earth, like I’m just a really insignificant part of an epic grand plan, if not a plan then a story, if not a story then maybe simply a long flat runway of sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch. An unraveled Zoopraxiscope.
But feeling small is good for the soul. On the one hand, you realize that what you care about from the second you lift your head off that pillow in the morning until the second it crashes back down there at night is practically meaningless. Not only in space, where you and your possible impact occupy a minuscule fraction of the scope of possible physical consequences, but also in time, where, I believe (and I’m not a physicist) that humans have barely a grasp on the chronology by which we measure the progress of a life. No one knows when time began. And even if someone did know, no one knows when time will end. What is forever? It’s only measurable in the length of human lives.
Here, if you have some time, for a great, fast short story, check out Isaac Asimov’s “The Last Question”.
On the other hand, when you feel small, you realize that YOU STILL FEEL BIG. I’ve never felt bigger than I feel right now. I fill up my whole body, I fill up my whole head, I fill up this room, I fill up this apartment, I fill up the bus to work, I fill up my favorite lunch place, I fill up a book, I fill up a friendship, I fill up a future. I’ve filled and keep filling whatever is this life. And although nothing means anything to the world, everything still means everything to your reality. Your worries, your fears, your hopes, your questions and your passions fill up a life too. So no one else cares. But you care, and you ARE the world. When you’re dead, nothing continues to exist. Prove that something does.
Damn, a song can make me feel all that?
I’m just going to drop a ton of Robotaki tracks, because he really is that good. Unfortunately, none of these are available to download through SoundCloud.